Banded
by pink.chocolate.unicorn
Summary: Dean Winchester meets Bobby's Physical therapist... Clear, bright blue eyes. Messy dark, short hair. Everything is put together nicely and Dean finds himself hoping he's dealing with a flexible Beta... or an Omega. One-shot. (Destiel. AU. A-B-O fic. Male Slash. Language. Mentions of: knotting, self lubrication and mating/heat cycles. Rated M; mature content and language.) Complete.


_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature language and content._

_Hello! Here's my attempt at the A-B-O (Alpha-Beta-Omega) trope. If that's not your thing, please utilize the X and find another fic you _will_ enjoy._  
_For those that've continued: I ask for a little belief in the entirely fictional ABO trope and (possibly) pregnant men. I know there are a fair number of Destiel ABO fics out there, but I was inspired to write my own the more of them I read. So. Here it is. I literally flipped a coin to see how Castiel and Dean would 'present'; I'm a fan of Bottom!Dean (and/or versatility) but sometimes you just gotta go with the classic method and let fate decide. I have a feeling my Omega!Castiel will be rather atypical—so that might be considered a warning of sorts...?  
_

_Overall warnings: AU. A-B-O fic. MalexMale slash. Smut. Language. Mentions of: knotting, self lubrication and mating/heat cycles._

_Enjoy. :))_

* * *

Dean Winchester wipes his feet before he enters Bobby's house, the habit long engrained but unique to Bobby's home—he doesn't bother anywhere else. He lets the screen door slam behind him and pauses, eyebrows crawling up his forehead when walks in and looks in the living room.

Bobby is on the floor, a dark haired person (probably male) bent over him and making the older man grunt with pain.

"Bobby?" Dean calls out, shuffling closer. He's cautious but not exactly alarmed. Bobby doesn't smell threatened, just annoyed. It's almost funny... but he's still gotta make sure Bobby isn't being attacked. Even if the guy (Dean can tell now it's a male) holding him down doesn't look like he could do much damage.

Bobby grunts, slapping his hand against the floor as his muscles protest the movement he's being forced through. "Dean," he grumbles. He looks towards the young Alpha and rises his middle finger, earning himself only an amused laugh. Idjit should be helping him, not standing there laughin' at him. He grunts again and slaps at his physical therapist shoulder. "This here is Castiel."

"Nice to meet you," Dean says out of habit. He inhales subtly, trying to get a read on the guy that's intently focused on bending Bobby's leg at the knee. There's the subtle, stale scent of Scent Blockers, so he's figuring the dark-haired Physical Therapist is a Beta. Maybe an Omega. He stills when the guy finally looks up at him, apparently able to let his attention wander from Bobby's hip for a moment, and he's treated to a very lovely image.

Clear, bright blue eyes. Messy dark, short hair. Nicely shaped, full pink lips. Everything is put together nicely with a strong chin and jaw line and Dean finds himself hoping he's dealing with a flexible Beta... or an Omega. His eyes unconsciously flick the the man's wrist, looking for a Suppressant Band. He sees a thin band of silvery grey and he wishes he remembered the stupid color system. But the width is enough to let him know the Band is designed for an Omega.

When the Bands had first come around, superior in nearly every way to the old Suppressant pills (or even the aerosol, insert shudder of horror here), they were quick to offer colors when it became clear that the younger generation would be more inclined towards wearing the Bands. Probably because of that rubber bracelet craze... They were about the same, just tighter and designed to gently and gradually, introduce the proper Suppressant hormones for 6 months.

Of course, not everyone wore the colors in favor of some weirdly intricate attempt at a color-coded social system.

He chose his green Band simply because he liked green. It was only a supremely lucky coincidence that green, apparently, meant he was more inclined towards males. He probably wouldn't have changed his color choice the when he needed a new Band, though. He didn't have any real preference and he didn't go around punching people for 'inappropriate' flirting, but it was good to know.

"Hello Dean," Castiel murmurs, his attention catching briefly on the Alpha standing in the doorway. He's handsome, of course, but he isn't there to flirt with green-eyed, built Alphas. He nearly rolls his eyes when the Alpha, Dean he remembers, stands taller and postures at him—white teeth flashing in what's probably meant to be a slick-inducing, charming grin. Great; one of _those_... He doesn't mind a flirt, not at all, but he's _working_ for crying out loud.

He focuses back on task, lifting the grumbling Beta's leg and rotating his ankle in a gentle circle. "Feel that?" He looks up and sees Bobby scowling at him but he's nodding at least. He offers a small smile; he knows the movement is simple but he wants to make sure. "Alright, do ten of them on your own." He gently lowers the Beta's leg so he can do the exercise. "Other leg," he says once he's counted 10 reps.

"I didn't get that one swapped out," Bobby says, referring to his good (and still fucking _natural _thankyouverymuch) hip as he leans up a little and glares at the Omega. If he didn't know any better, he would swear Castiel is some sort of sadist that gets off on making people do awkward exercises on hard floors. He hates that he needs to have anyone come here and do this shit for him. It's embarrassing and completely unnecessary. He got the damn print out for the at-home physical therapy. It wasn't hard to figure out; none of it was rocket science.

But Castiel had shown up with his rolled up yoga mat-on-a-string thing and an honest to god doctor's prescription for the hour long, twice weekly, torture sessions. He had tried to talk the Omega into just sitting back, watching TV with a beer during the allotted time but the Physical Therapist is one of those serious types that doesn't mess around. Lucky him.

Castiel chuckles softly, despite the grumpy reply. "I know." Bobby huffs out a curse but does the exercises, grumbling obscenities under his breath the entire time. He relaxes into the carpet when he's done.

He sits back and pats Bobby's knee. He straightens the Beta's legs out, urging them about a foot apart with a gentle grip on his ankles, "Alright, now move your legs, like you're making a snow angel." He watches closely as Bobby does as he's told. It's a simple movement and Bobby huffs softly, muttering about doing something so childish, but he does it. "Good, do ten of those."

Dean watches from the armchair furthest away from the pair on the floor. He should probably be doing something useful, like clearing up the kitchen or getting the yard fixed up, since that was why he came over. However, he's happy to just sit there, chin in hand, as he watches the physical therapist twist and aggravate Bobby. It's pretty entertaining, truth be told.

"That all looks easy," he murmurs, watching as Bobby is instructed to lay with his legs apart and clench his butt muscles (and hold for a 5 count). He's thoroughly amused to see Bobby glare but comply, if his twitching lower half is any indication.

"It is fairly easy," Castiel says, eyes on Bobby's progress. "But it's beneficial to someone who's had a hip replacement." He wants to glare over his shoulder at the Alpha, but he doesn't want to encourage the man. Or get in trouble, again, for being 'mouthy'. He gives Bobby his attention again when he notices the Beta has stopped moving. "Done?"

Bobby nods. "Yup, my butt feels great," he deadpans.

Castiel just hums and flashes a quick, amused smile. "Alright, next one. Tighten your thigh muscle," he starts, placing a hand on the Beta's thigh to make sure the leg is straight out and the muscles are clenched. "Good, now lift your leg several inches. Hold for about five seconds." He counts along and nods. "Alright, now you can slowly lower your leg." He sits back on his heels, "Repeat until your thigh feels fatigued."

"Shit," Bobby mumbles but he does it. By the time he does about 10, his leg is trembling slightly. He huffs out a silent breath of relief when Castiel lets him stop. "Other leg?" Castiel nods and he just does it, not bothering to argue any more. If he's allowed to do this shit on his own, he's only gonna do the one leg. He's near the fifteenth rep and he's not 'fatigued'. "Can I stop now?"

"Yup." Castiel holds a hand out to Bobby and helps the Beta stand. "Now, there are the standing exercises..."

Dean watches the routine, amused even more as Bobby is forced to hold onto the back of a kitchen chair as the physical therapist walks him through the rest of his exercises. He's managed to keep quiet, apparently effectively blending in the background because when he speaks again, Bobby and Castiel jump a little with surprise. "How many times does he gotta do that?"

"About three times a day, the entire set," Castiel says, ending his sentence with a meaningful look at Bobby. "I'll only be by twice a week, though."

Bobby looks relieved.

Dean looks slightly put-out. "Oh."

He watches the Omega gather his things and leave, a short wave aimed at him and Bobby before he slips out the door and is gone. He sags in his chair and tries not to pout.

Of course, that means he does pout and he's immediately caught out by Bobby. And Sam—because the sneaky jerk comes out of nowhere at the best times to taunt and tease him. It's a freaky talent his Beta brother has honed over the years and has a no-fail track record. His pout turns into a scowl when Sam gives him an annoyingly knowing smirk. He huffs and leaves the room, refusing to be bullied by two Betas.

"Assholes," he mutters under his breath as he heads towards the garage, intent on banging something heavy and metal against something else heavy and metal. The scents and sounds of the garage always calm him down. He growls softly when the only response is two howls of laughter. Jerks.

Sam's face smooths out once Dean is gone and he gives Bobby a look of concern. As much fun as it is to tease his brother, he's actually feeling a little bad about it now that Dean has left. It isn't often he's seen his brother get that dopey Alpha look. "He OK?" he asks the other Beta, folding himself into the chair Dean vacated.

"Yeah, he's fine. Ain't the first time his hormones turned him into an idjit around an Omega."

Sam's brow wrinkles. "Yeah, it is."

"Nope," Bobby says as he stretches out on the sofa. For a bunch of lame exercises, he's feeling a little worn out. He tucks a pillow behind his head, but doesn't take off his cap. "But that was years ago, before he even knew what he was doing," he says, crossing his arms over his chest and snuggling down into the sofa.

Sam just hums. He doesn't exactly want to talk about his brother when he's not around, but it's not like Dean would discuss such things like a normal person, either. He turns the TV on, making sure the sound is low enough he doesn't disturb Bobby' nap.

.'|'.

Dean makes a habit of coming by Bobby's when he knows Castiel will be there. He's there other times, too, but when the Omega is around, he makes sure there are no immediate chores that can distract him. It's only twice a week but he enjoys the hour or so he can get to stare at the Omega. He tries not to be obvious, or creepy, about it, though. He realizes Castiel isn't exactly interested. At least... he doesn't _act_ interested in any way; Castiel remains professional at all times. He's polite, but that's it.

It's a hit to the ol' ego, but Dean can take a hint. He's not the kind of Alpha that needs to bully an Omega for attention. He doesn't usually have to, truth be told... So Castiel's polite but pointed dismissal is probably the main reason he can't seem to stay away. One of those 'want what you can't have' sorta deals. It's Bobby's third session when he finds himself standing by the pair, fighting the urge to fidget and wring his hands as he asks if either of them want a drink.

He offers a small, non-threatening smile when the Omega turns to him, blue eyes wide and his mouth open a little, clearly shocked. He's tempted to throw his shoulder's back and get defensive, maybe demand to know why his offer is surprising Castiel. But he knows _why_ so he tries not to make a big deal about it.

"Gatorade?" Castiel asks after a few moments, taking longer than he'd like to regain his thought processes. He turns back to Bobby but he's eyeing Dean from the side. He sees the Alpha nod, wince and then he hears a throat being cleared. It's very difficult to not find the entire situation adorable and very arousing. Awkward Alpha is a very strange turn-on for him...

"Yeah. Yeah, we got some. You like, uh, red?"

Castiel chuckles softly and shrugs, "Red is fine. Thank you, Dean." Out of the corner of his eye he can see Dean's chest expand a bit and he smiles to himself. "You should have something with electrolytes, as well," he says to the prone Beta, who's busy glaring at him. Probably for pausing and drawing out the exercises that much longer.

Bobby is a sour old curmudgeon but he's easily one of Castiel's favorite patients. And that actually has little to do with Dean, honestly. The Beta will grumble and whine, bitch and moan for nearly the entire session but he _listens_. Bobby doesn't give him shit and an attitude because he's 'one of them uppity, professional' Omegas. Bobby's just naturally a sour old bastard—to everyone. He's able to look under the exterior and see a generally likeable man, though. The rare occasions he's seen it, the older Beta actually has a nice, warm smile. It reaches his eyes, making them crinkle in the corners.

"Yeah, get me that blue shit," Bobby says from the floor, raising his voice a little since Dean is already heading towards the kitchen. He relaxes on the floor again, grumbling under his breath about stupid Alphas and their distractions. He offers Castiel something between an apologetic smile and a grimace, feeling a little bad Dean's been hanging around. It's obvious why, even if Dean ain't being a stupid, raging knot-head about it. "Sorry, I tried to get him to come later—"

"It's fine," Castiel interrupts, waving off the apology with a dismissive gesture. He rolls his eyes when Bobby's face creases a tiny bit in a sly, knowing smile. "And no. I'm working," he adds, seeing the Beta thinking along the same lines as his stupid body. He's a professional, dammit, and it's going to stay that way. Sexy, green-eyed Alphas being adorable or not. "Five more of those and we can take a short break."

Bobby does his required flexes and sits up when Dean comes back in with their drinks. He wants to say something about how odd it is but he keeps his mouth shut. Castiel might say he's immune to the situation, but he's not blind, dammit. Or born without a nose.

And it's funny as hell seeing Dean acting like a shy little pup again. That alone is worth keeping his trap shut and keeping spectator status as he gulps down the too-sweet blue stuff and tries not to drown in the fuckin' pheromones the two idjits are shooting at each other.

.'|'.

By the sixth session, Dean is making it a habit to get them drinks mid-way through. Bobby still bitches but Castiel will give him a small smile when he hands his glass over, so it's totally worth it. He's fidgeting slightly as he sits in the armchair, watching as Castiel finishes with Bobby.

"Lunch!" he blurts out. He nearly slaps a hand over his mouth and closes his eyes in mortification. Smooth, Winchester. He offers Castiel a charming smile, hoping he doesn't look constipated or something. "Uh. I mean, wanna stay for lunch? Unless—uh... Unless you gotta 'nother patient?"

Castiel considers the offer. It's tempting... and he doesn't have any other patients today. His house-calls are few and he's usually done for the day after visiting Bobby. He raises his eyebrows in question at Bobby, silently asking his input. It's the Beta's home, after all. He only gets a shrug, which could be either a 'yes' or a 'no'. His head cocks a little as he considers. "It's not a problem?"

"No!" Dean practically yells. He awkwardly clears his throat, trying on that charming smile again. "I mean, no. I wouldn't have asked, right?"

"Right," Castiel says slowly, with a short nod.

There's a few beats of awkward silence before Dean jumps up from the chair. "OK! Well, gimme a few minutes and it'll be ready." He hurries into the kitchen, pleased with himself he thought ahead and got lunch started so it'll be ready sooner. Right when they're done, if he's timed it like he thought he did. He jumps when Castiel and Bobby follow him into the kitchen and he's suddenly feeling awkward thought he'd have a few more minutes...

It's downright weird for him having an Omega and a Beta sitting there, staring at him and waiting for food. He's not normally one of those 'traditionalists', though, so he shakes the feeling off. If anything, it's more natural this way; it calms that protective urge to make sure those he cares about are fed and happy. He turns back to the stove, stirring the soup with a contented little smile.

"What's for lunch, boy?" Bobby asks, trying to lean over enough to see past Dean. He knows Dean's culinary skills are pretty meager, so he's a little wary. He's not looking forward to food poisoning just so the Alpha can strut his stuff for Castiel. He pinches his lips together when Dean sets bowls of tomato soup before them and then a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches. Well, ain't that adorable.

Castiel stares at the food before slowly picking up his spoon and stirring his soup a little. There's an odd warm-tight feeling in his chest as he does so and he's not sure what to make of it. He notices Dean staring at him, probably looking for a reaction of some sort. He manages a smile. "Thank you, Dean."

"You're welcome," Dean says brightly, unable to keep from puffing his chest out a little at the Omega's obvious pleasure. He wants to pat himself on the back for making something edible. Everyone likes soup and grilled cheese. He glances at Bobby and scowls slightly when the Beta just gives him a shit-eating grin and slurps his soup.

He makes a silent promise to make sure he gives Bobby the smallest piece of pie for being a smug little jerkwad.

.'|'.

When Castiel's gets to Mr. Singer's house, he sees a sleek, shiny black car in the driveway. It's... impressive, honestly. He's pretty sure it's Deans; it's definitely the sort of car an Alpha would have. He idly wonders how many slick-soaked undergarments have littered the back seat as he walks up the walkway. A prickle of irrational jealousy has him stomping a little as he climbs the two steps up the porch.

(Later, he finds out Baby—as Dean lovingly refers to the Impala—was Dean's father's and he almost feels bad he'd been such a shit about it when he heard the warmth and still-fresh grief in the Alpha's voice. It was easy to see it was more than just a car when Dean spoke about helping his dad fix it up or riding around in it when he was a pup. He laughed, despite himself, when Dean then grinned roguishly, eyebrows dancing, when he said it was also handy for attracting flexible Omegas that liked shiny things.)

He knocks on the door and opens it, used to Bobby's habits by now. The Beta actually grumps at him for waiting at the door to be let in anymore. He's not sure if it's Bobby's way of welcoming him in as something more than a guest or because he doesn't want to get up and answer the door. As he expected, the Beta is sprawled comfortably in his armchair, watching some day-time game show.

"Hello, Mister Singer."

"I said you could call me Bobby, boy."

Castiel laughs softly and shakes his head. "Right. Yes. Hello, Bobby. How're you today?" he asks, getting his mat out and taking off his zip-up hoodie. He's very aware of Dean sitting in 'his usual' chair and gives him a small smile and a nod in greeting. Dean beams at him and he has to look away, curbing his urge to grin back. Or maybe crawl into his lap and rearrange his carefully-messy dark blonde hair. He squats next to the mat and pats is invitingly at a scowling Beta. "Sooner we get started, the sooner we're done."

"Yeah. I know. Fuckin' useless shit," Bobby grumbles as he lays down and gets ready to start. He knows the drill by now and he doesn't need Castiel to walk him through a damn thing. But he likes the Omega and he's a funny little shit once he gets talking. He's trying not to split his guts laughing a few minutes later when Castiel tells him about his one and only class full of pups—Gymbordee or some yuppy-puppy thing.

Castiel laughs, pleased to see tears of laughter in Bobby's eyes. "I don't care what anyone says—"

"You don't like pups?" Dean blurts out, interrupting and looking at Castiel. He's not exactly sure why the idea unsettles him but it does. Castiel would be a great father and it would be a shame if he didn't settle down. At some point, when he was ready. He knows Castiel isn't the usual sort of Omega; he's comfortable with himself in a way he doesn't see in many Omegas.

Castiel looks at Dean for a few moments, considering how to answer. Yes, a group of a dozen pups is enough to try anyone's patience but it doesn't mean he isn't ever going to have his own. He certainly does want to but he'd prefer to be mated first. He doesn't usually have the usual hang-ups some of his fellow Omega's might; he's OK with his physiology, even uses it to his advantage sometimes. He knows there are Omegas out there bucking against the antiquated system and he should probably feel bad for fluttering his lashes or looking to a near-by Alpha when he needs a hand... but he can't seem to help himself sometimes.

Dean is starting to be one of those Alphas he wants to flutter his eyelashes for. He wants to get to know the Alpha better; he finds himself, willingly, staying behind at Bobby's house more often when Dean visits (which is now every-damn-time he's there). And Dean looking so damn interested in a discussion about pups isn't helping anything. He wants to pinch and snap his Suppressant Band when a heated tingle works through him.

"Yes," Castiel finally says. "I do, but large groups are a bit much, no?"

Dean chuckles and nods. OK, that he can agree with. He'd taken Sam to a few pup-play groups a time or two and he didn't know how the perky little blonde Beta running the thing didn't end up eating half of the little brats in the first 5 minutes.

"Yeah." He leans back and goes quiet again, letting Castiel and Bobby continue with their exercises. He's not due to bug 'em with something to drink for another 10 minutes.

.'|'.

Castiel pauses when he sees a newcomer sitting by Dean—very close to Dean. His eyes narrow without his consent as he looks the other man over critically. The man stands and his eyes narrow even more, taking in the extremely tall stranger. The extremely tall and good looking stranger. He huffs to himself as he eyes the man up and down. The extremely tall, good looking and muscle-y stranger. He takes in a short inhale he's not quite aware of and adjusts his list, again; The extremely tall, good looking, muscle-y, Beta stranger.

Dammit.

He blinks a few times when he sees the narrow Suppressant Band on the large wrist. He jumps with surprise when Dean is next to him, dragging him from his thoughts with a clap and a light squeeze on the shoulder.

"Cas! This is Sam, my brother."

Castiel nods politely and shakes the proffered hand when it's extended. He's stupidly relieved to realize there's a familial resemblance (both in looks and scent) between Dean and Sam. He tries not to be rude, but he's staring at the light brown Band, head cocked and eyes narrowed with confusion. He doesn't see many Betas (at least, he _thinks_ Sam is a Beta) that needs (or chooses) to wear a Suppressant Band.

One designed for Omegas, no less.

He's aware not everyone falls into a neat little category, though, so he shrugs it off. He's met quite a few Betas like Sam that blur the status lines and he's a little impressed Sam appears comfortable with himself. (Probably because of his sheer size, he really can afford to be.) He likes that Dean looks ready to puff himself unconscious he looks so damn proud and adoring of his brother. It's sweet and he can't help giving Sam a warm smile.

"Sammy's a Beta," Dean says proudly, punching his brother's arm when Sam rolls his eyes at him. He knows Sam isn't embarrassed about it and he doesn't care if some people are asses about it; Cas should know and he kinda wants to see his reaction. "Uh. One of those, uh..." he trails off, waving a hand around awkwardly and shrugging. He doesn't care if Sam's one of those Beta's that can go either way, either Heat or Rut. He actually likes seeing Sam shock the hell outta people when they figure out he's 'one of those Betas'. His size alone deters most assholes from saying much.

Sam rolls his eyes and shoves Dean, making the Alpha stumble and curse under his breath. He grins. "Dude, I'm bigger than you," he points out to his muttering brother before turning towards the Omega, "Anyway, hi Castiel. I've heard a lot about you."

"Really?" Castiel asks, eyebrows popping up. He can't imagine who'd be— Then he sees Dean blushing and he smiles. "All good I hope?" he teases.

Dean ignores Sam's stupid smug little smile (and Cas'—'cause the Omega is smiling in a way that makes his nose scrunch up adorably and he can't stand it) and goes into the kitchen. Sam and Cas seem to be getting along well enough he doesn't need to supervise. Figures those assholes would gang up on him...

"Yup," Sam says, rocking on the balls of his feet and nodding. He finally notices Castiel is still holding his yoga mat thing and steps back. "Sorry, I'll let you guys get started." He laughs when Bobby mutters a sarcastic 'thanks' and assumes the position. He shakes his head with a small smile and heads towards the library. He comes back out in time to see Bobby standing, muttering curses, and Dean waving them all into the kitchen.

He wants to act like Dean making lunch is no biggie... But he _can't_—it's just too freakin' weird. "Woah," he says, staring wide-eyed at the various bowls and plates. There's a buffet laid out and he plops into a chair, trying to decide where to start. He gives his brother a dopey smile when he notices there's even salad. Like, grilled chicken, lettuce and tomatoes _salad_.

"Shuddup, Sammy," Dean mutters and sits. He waits until everyone has something on their plates before grabbing two burgers and a fried chicken leg. He rolls his eyes when his brother gives him a look and he takes some potato salad, too.

"_Dean_."

"What? It's salad," Dean counters, grinning when Sam huffs and aims a bitch-face at him. He takes a huge bite of his burger and grins at his brother with bulging cheeks.

.'|'.

Castiel manages to make it through the entire set of exercises (and drinks, snacks and lunch from Dean) without losing his mind. As soon as Dean had entered the room (bringing a heavy cloud of Alpha scent with him) moments after Bobby was on the mat, he'd been flushed and sweaty. He'd tried adjusting his Band, multiple times, but it didn't do a damn thing except put his focus on his traitorous body.

The Suppressant Bands were supposed to _suppress_ a Heat, dammit. He spent most of the session with the Beta praying that Dean didn't notice anything wrong.

He swipes sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist. "What?" he mutters when he catches Bobby staring at him.

"Nothin," Bobby says lightly, holding his hands up. "Need another drink?"

Castiel grumbles and nods reluctantly. He tries to look around the room as subtly as he possible can, but he hears Bobby snicker and he glares at the Beta. "What?" he snaps out.

"Nothin'," Bobby says again and smothers the urge to laugh. Castiel looks like a wet cat at the moment and he's not all that interested in seeing a fully riled, hormone riddled Omega. "Dean's in the garage."

Castiel jumps up and rushes into the kitchen, relief and Heat rolling through him and making him sweaty and needing a drink. He lets the tap run for a minute so the water is colder and drinks right from the faucet. He ducks his head and neck under the water for good measure, but it doesn't help much. The heat rolling through him is all internal, the cool-down is only temporary.

"Feelin' alright?"

Castiel jumps and whirls around. He leans over to make sure Bobby is alone before nodding. "Yes."

"You should prob'ly go."

Castiel nods, already moving across the kitchen and preparing to gather his things. "Yes."

"I'll just tell Dean somethin' came up," Bobby offers. He sees Castiel nod again, the Omega apparently aware that Dean would be wonderin' why he didn't stay like usual. He hurries over to the Omega before he can leave, putting a gentle hand on his upper arm. "I won't say anything else, but you prob'ly should."

Castiel's head lowers and he bites his bottom lip. He knows Bobby is right but he can't do it now... "I know. I will."

"Good," Bobby says and lets Castiel's arm go. He considers the slumped Omega and rubs a hand over his mouth, annoyed he's gotta be sayin' goopy, girly shit. He's aware that even after next week, his last sessions with the Physical Therapist, he'll be seeing Castiel again. He ain't too bothered by that, neither. "Be nice seeing you when you ain't torturing me with your nap mat."

Castiel snorts a laugh, despite himself. He worries his bottom lip, and glances up at Bobby shyly. The Beta obvious is aware of what's going on and he's suddenly a little scared. "Do you think he'll be upset?" he asks in a low voice. "Will Sam?"

"Hell no," Bobby says, smacking Castiel lightly upside the head. Idjit ain't thinking right if he's at all worried about either Winchester. "No," he repeats when Castiel doesn't look convinced. "Sam'll be pleased as punch Dean's found his Mate and Dean... Well, you honestly can't tell me you don't think that boy'll be anything less than thrilled."

Castiel nods slowly, the tension slowly bleeding out of his shoulders. "But... This isn't just some flirting—"

"Shuddup, boy," Bobby says kindly, smiling. "I've beena round enough to see flirting and that som'bitch Alpha was doin' a whole lot more than just trying to get into your yoga pants." He grins when Castiel bursts out with a surprised, but delighted, laugh. "Go on, git on out of here before you press your luck."

Castiel gives Bobby a one armed hug and hurries out the door. He's nearly to his car and his exhale of relief lodges in his throat when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He whirls around and backs up a few steps when he sees Dean, eyeing him with concern. And a little bit of confused hurt. "Dean," he breathes. He has to viciously squash the urge to plaster himself against the Alpha's front and _wiggle_.

"Cas? You OK?"

Castiel nods, unable to speak. He'll probably just make some annoy, needy noise and he can't do that right now.

"Sure?" Dean asks, leaning down and peering at Cas closer. The Omega looks flushed and panicky. He reaches out, intending only to comfort, but Cas backs up rapidly, his back bumping into his car. He frowns. "You're leaving."

Castiel nods, even though it's not a question. "Sorry. Pack emergency."

"Oh!" Dean nods and steps back. He knows Cas has a big pack—it could be any number of things that's called the Omega away. Important things, important enough to have Cas missing lunch, anyway. He wants to pout but he won't. So what if he put in the effort of making his own spaghetti sauce; it took hours but pack is important and lunch can wait. "Yeah, OK," he hurries around to the driver side and opens Cas' door for him.

He watches in confusion as Cas slides along the car, shuffling and keeping contact with the car. He's about to say something about Cas being weird (which he likes, but this is super-weird, even for Cas) when he's nearly smacked with the best scent. Ever. He groans softly and just inhales as much of it as he can, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as he holds it in too long. "Fuck," he sighs dreamily on the exhale.

"Shit," Castiel mutters and scrabbles for the door handle. Dean looks up at him, those green eyes dark and half-lidded and he nearly whimpers. Why wait? Now is as good a time as any to climb the Alpha like a fucking sequoia and let him Mate him until they're an exhausted, sated, sweaty, sticky pile... He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

Dean moves on auto-pilot, caging Cas in against the warm metal of his car. "Castiel," he murmurs, voice a low rumble. Cas makes a breathless whimpering sound and he presses closer, jamming his nose into the Omega's neck. He inhales deeply and nuzzles the warm skin, nosing at the sensitive patch of skin right behind Cas' ear. He feels Cas tremble.

It takes a few beats for him to feel Cas' hands on his chest, fingers clenched in and trying to push him away. He stumbles backwards under his own power, horrified with himself. He was so close to just clamping his teeth around Cas' neck and shoving a hand down the Omega's pants... Fuck, he _knows_ he's got better control than that! He fists his hands, trying to control the trembling.

"Oh, fuck. God, Cas, I'm so sorry!"

Castiel shakes his head, trying to tell Dean he wasn't pushing him away, or resisting. He'd only been trying to feel the Alpha up. Dean is backing away, shaking his head still and muttering apologies. He wants to scowl in confusion but he understands. He knows Dean is convinced he's in the wrong but he isn't. "Dean!"

"Sorry!" Dean says, turning and sprinting for the garage. He doesn't know whether to be relieved or cry when he hears Cas' car pull away moments later. He doesn't know what he'd do if the Omega tried to follow him... He shudders and covers his face. God, he's an asshole. He's never lost control like that before and he's a little afraid he'll never see Cas again after this. He wouldn't blame him, not one fucking bit. This wasn't the dark ages when grunting Alphas went around knotting anything that smelled good.

He moans miserably and flops, face-first, into the backseat of the Impala. He needs to get a hold of himself... He glares at his green Band accusingly. There's no fucking way it wasn't working; he only replaced it a month ago. He ignores Sam when his brother hollers about being hungry. He ignores Bobby yelling for him to get his 'sorry, mopin' ass in the house' for dinner. He's never had an issue like this before and he's pretty sure isolation is the best bet.

At least until he can get a new fucking Suppressant Band. He taps out a message to Cas, begging for a forgiveness he doesn't deserve (but _needs_, goddammit) and vowing to stay away for Bobby's last appointment. He stares at his phone, expecting Cas to ignore him, but he doesn't. He gets a happy message, assuring him everything is OK.

Dean sighs with relief and clutches his phone to his chest. Even if Cas is lying trough his pretty little teeth, he'll take it. He knows the Omega wouldn't hesitate to tell him to shove his shiny Impala up his ass if he wasn't feeling charitable towards him at the moment.

So that's something...

He finally stomps back into the house, muttering an apology to Sam and Bobby before closing himself up in his room.

"What crawled up his ass?" Sam mutters moments after the door slams closed.

Bobby snickers and plops onto the sofa. "Cas."

"Oh," Sam says offhandedly. Then he pauses, eyes widening. "Wait! What?"

"Cas," Bobby repeats. "Turns out he's Dean's Mate."

Sam gapes, mouth wide open. He snaps it closed with a click and rushes over to sit next to Bobby. "Oh my god. Why is he being such a fuckin' assface then?" He figured Dean would be twirling around like a damn Disney Princess with that sort of news. He's been drooling over the Omega since he first laid eyes on him.

"I'm guessing the idjit hasn't figured that out yet," Bobby says with a shrug. He feels a little bad the boy's beating himself up over something, probably 'cause he jumped on Cas like a dog on a... Well, 'nother dog. He sighs when Sam just looks at him, his forehead all wrinkled up and his mouth pulled down. "He ain't the brightest bulb on the strand, boy."

Sam nods, shrugging at the same time. Dean isn't stupid but he tends to come to bone-headed conclusions pretty easily. "Great," he huffs, flopping back against the sofa. Now Dean is gonna be all emo-Alpha until he engages his brain and get his shit together. He has a brief flair of hope that Cas will help Dean out; if any Omega would chase after an Alpha, it's Cas.

.'|'.

Castiel groans softly with appreciation as the hot water beats down on his shoulders and the top of his head. He has no idea what motivated him to help Bobby with yard-work. Alright, yeah; he does know—that would be 6 feet two inches of sexy, green-eyed Alpha. But he honestly thought he was in decent shape until now; an hour of pulling weeds and using a hedge clipper shouldn't hurt this much, should it? He rolls his shoulders and feels the muscles loosening up a little under the hot spray.

He doesn't hear light knock or the door opening, and even if he did he wouldn't care.

Dean gives a cursory knock before opening the bathroom door. It's either Sam or Bobby and neither of them give a shit if he sneaks in for a piss while they're showering. As long as he doesn't flush... He grins and as soon as he's done, depresses the silver plunger. He laughs at the pained shriek coming from behind the plastic curtain.

The laughter dies and his smile slowly drops until he's only able to just stand there, shocked and staring, wide-eyed. Oh shit.

"What the hell?" Castiel shouts, shoving the curtain aside.

Dean blinks a few times, trying like hell to keep his gaze up and on the pink-cheeked Omega's face. He can't tell if Cas is flushed from irritation or the super hot water he was suddenly blasted with. Probably both. He winces a little. "Sorry, man, I didn't know it was you."

"Who else would it be?" Castiel asks, gripping the shower curtain tighter and glaring at the stammering Alpha. He will not say it aloud, but a flustered Dean Winchester is quite a sight. He just barely manages to hold onto his outrage, but only so Dean can't scent his growing arousal. His ass still stings from the blast of hot water and he want to be annoyed at the juvenile asshole. At least for a little while.

"Uh, Sam? Or Bobby?"

Castiel huffs softly and reaches for a towel. He's done showering anyway; he'd just been standing there, enjoying the soothing warm water. He dries off, not even caring that Dean is still in the room, staring at him openly. He's not embarrassed or all that modest about his body, most Omegas aren't by the time they've had a few Heats and subjected to humiliating doctor's visits. You become pretty accustomed to waiting around nude (usually in a room full of other nervous Omegas) and fingers in awkward places.

However, he feels himself flush when Dean just continues to stare, that green gaze moving up and down his exposed body eagerly. _Appreciatively_. It's almost dizzying how quickly his annoyance puffs away and replaced with pure arousal.

Dean closes the door and leans against it, continuing to look the Omega over. Cas isn't even bothering to cover himself, even though his neck and the top of his chest is pinker than it was a few moments ago. He's starting to detect the clear scent of Omega arousal in the steamy room. He closes his eyes and groans softly.

Why the fuck did he just close himself off in a room with that _scent_?

He's never believed in True Mates or that one scent could scramble the most composed Alpha into a quivering pile of pheromone-guided goo. His eyes nearly cross when his senses are bombarded with _Castiel_ and _Omega_ and all he can think of is: Mine. Mate. Claim. He presses himself against the door, suddenly terrified at his thoughts and real threat of loss of his control. It's then that he notices the lack of a thin grey band on Cas' wrist. What the actual fuck?

"Cas?" Dean chokes out, eyes wild and already starting to glaze with hormones and lust.

Castiel shuffles closer, dropping his towel unceremoniously to the floor. "Yes, Dean?" he murmurs, voice low and husky. Dean is tense and looking like he wants to melt into, or through, the closed door. Or jump right into his personal space and dominate. He's just not sure which direction the Alpha will go.

"Suppressant Band," Dean manages to get out, his teeth clenching to curb the urge to growl. His heart-rate is crazy high and he's almost deaf to anything but the sound of his blood thundering in his ears and making a bee-line right for his dick. His hands clench against the wood, to keep him from grabbing the intoxicating (and still fucking wet and naked) Omega's slim hips.

Castiel lazily regards his unadorned wrist. He'd taken the thing off days ago and he's not surprised it has taken awhile for the Suppressants to work through; they are highly effective, after all. Or maybe it's just finally being in an enclosed, small room finally had the Alpha aware; unable to do anything but react. He shrugs one shoulder, smiling at Dean.

"Forgot, I guess." He smiles mischievously. He's _never_ forgotten his Suppressants, regardless of what form they took, since he had his first Heat at 13. He hears Dean whimper and he does a mental victory dance.

"You've got yours on," Castiel points out, gaze flicking down the the wide green band on Dean's wrist. He knows most Alphas don't bother with the Suppressant Bands; if unmated, most just go somewhere for the few days they're hazy with Rut, either in seclusion or one of those places it was easy to find (or buy) a willing Omega. The fact that Dean bothers to wear one is just another of those quirks he found himself liking about the Alpha.

Dean nods vigorously. "Yeah. Yeah, I do," he says, still nodding. It's not fucking helping a damn thing right now, but he's wearing it. He's been around un-Banded Omega's before and he's never had this kind of reaction before. "Cas."

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean shivers, that deep voice working through his body and ending right in the pit of his stomach in a squirmy little ball of heat. "I need—" He cuts himself off, biting off the next words. He will _not_ say what he needs. Cas shifts closer and he tries to get away, pressing even closer to the door and scooting to the left. He will not go off like some crazy, pheromone goaded Alpha. He moans softly, mostly in distress, because Cas is worth more than that.

"I mean, I think it's defective," he quickly corrects, eyes darting to his wrist. It has to be; this is the second fucking time he's practically attacked Cas.

"No, Dean," Castiel says softly. He closes the distance between them, watching as Dean's chest expands with a deep inhale. "It's not defective." He presses closer.

At first, he'd been a bit put-out by the level of attraction he'd felt for the Alpha now whining pathetically as he tries to get farther away. Then he got to know Dean. Under his cocky exterior, he's a loyal, caring and soft-hearted person. It didn't take long for him to realize the reactions he'd had towards Dean, even when wearing his Suppressant Band, meant something more.

He felt like a teenager again when he had to ask his brother about it... Gabriel had been, surprisingly, understanding and mocked him only a little as he explained the whole Mates things. Suppressant Bands didn't do dick when one found their True Mate. A knowing grin and a raised eyebrow told him his brother was now aware of him leaving Mr. Singer's house with a raging hard-on and dripping slick. The smug bastard.

"What?" Dean asks through a harsh pant. He wants to squirm away when Cas leans in. Or maybe fist both hands in that fucking hair and yank the Omega against him. He hates that he trembles slightly when he can hear Cas draw a deep lungful of air, scenting him, and releasing it with a soft hum of appreciation.

Castiel shifts even closer, resting a hand on Dean's chest. He wants to just rub his hands all over Dean's firm chest, but that can happen later; once Dean has given full consent to any and all touching. "Mates," he says simply. He rubs his cheek against Dean's jaw, humming softly as their stubble rasps together softly. He sighs, enjoying the way their scents mingle. The woodsy musk almost makes him dizzy with want.

Dean blinks rapidly, his breathing picking up speed with both confused panic and trying to get more of Castiel's compelling scent. "What? Mates?" Castiel looks up at him, those blue fucking eyes gazing up at him through dark-as-sin lashes, and nods. Then he smiles and Dean is lost for a long moment, staring wide-eyed and trying to control his clenching fingers.

"Suppressant Bands," he says dumbly.

"—Do not work when it comes to Mates," Castiel finishes, as if it's obvious. He's pretty sure it's in the little pamphlets that come with each Suppressant Band, but who the hell actually reads them? He hasn't. And, apparently, neither has Dean.

Dean nods, stunned Cas had figured out exactly what he meant from such a lame attempt at a question. He looks down at Castiel again, taking in the Omega from and entirely new prospective. He'd found Cas attractive from the get-go, of course, but now he's looking as a potential Mate. And he's _this close_ to dancing around and howling, feeling like he's won some kinda Mate jackpot. Smart, sexy, a little weird and completely awesome; Cas is perfect.

Probably _too_ perfect... A little bit of rational thought trickles back in and be leans away, jerking backwards so fast his head hits the door with a painful _thunk_. Cas just follows him and he's starting to get a little desperate when the room positive reeks of Omega in Heat. It's a tantalizing scent but he can't...

"Please, don't. Cas, you can't do this," Dean whispers hoarsely when Cas gets closer and _touches_ him; almost squirming against him. Slim, agile hands slide through his hair, tugging lightly and mussing it. He growls softly and then whimpers. It feels so good. Too good. "_We_ can't do this. Not now," he begs, not giving one fuck how he sounds. He feels hot and a little dizzy at the sudden increase of hormones and pulls the defunct Band off. He doesn't know how long he can control himself; he can practically feel his Alpha nature howling and snarling in the back of his mind.

It wants Cas and it isn't going to stop until he has his Omega—pinned, writhing and _claimed_.

Dean whimpers again, his resolve crumbling as he agrees with that inner desire; that's exactly how _he_ wants Cas, too. Now.

He tries to stomp down another moan when Cas presses in close and arches shamelessly against him. He makes a soft noise of pleasure and surprise when Cas' lips are on him, right over the jumping pulse-point of his throat. Those perfect little teeth and hot, wet tongue work along his neck. Fuck, he wishes the Omega didn't know it's a sensitive point on his body.

"Yes we can," Cas murmurs, biting down on Dean's earlobe sharply—knowing how much Alphas enjoy it. He's not disappointed when Dean's hips twitch forward and he tries to stifle a guttural moan. "I want you," he whines dramatically. He's starting to get annoyed at Dean's strong will. He needs Dean now, especially now when things can finally go right. He hadn't planned it to go this way, but he really can't ignore the perfect opportunity.

"Don't you want me?" he whispers, smirking triumphantly when Dean shivers almost violently and whimpers again. He didn't think an Alpha could make such noises... It's quite the turn-on.

Castiel leans back only enough to peek up and into darkened green eyes. It's so entrancing to see the green nearly eaten up with black. Dean is sweaty and positively reeking with Alpha musk; it's incredibly arousing and he can't help squirming a little when he feels a responding heated flush of slick. "So hot," he murmurs before latching onto Dean's neck again, nibbling and biting gently at the jumping pulse point.

"I do," Dean whispers, uncomfortable with letting Cas think anything else. His hands are still pressed against the door, his fingertips are white, in a last effort of keeping himself from touching Cas. All he can smell is the cloyingly sweet, pungent scent of slick and he _wants_. He presses his hands into the door harder when he's convinced he's moments away from grabbing the Omega.

"So help me, I really do. But this is not the time, Cas," he says, his voice wavering with lust and a little fear. He growls softly when Cas wriggles and presses their hips together, the Omega's naked cock brushing against the bulge of his jeans.

Dean grunts with annoyance when Cas' grip on him doesn't lessen, instead the Omega just grips him tighter, arms and legs clamping around him tightly. "Fuck," he hisses, pulling Cas' head back from his neck by a fistful of dark hair. "Do you know what you're asking for?" he growls lowly. His eyes widen comically when Cas' eyes dilate and the hard length pressing against his upper thigh twitches and is more pronounced.

No no no... Damn the pushy little Omega. He had hoped it would snap Cas into his proper senses—not moan wantonly and make a needy little sound in the back of his throat.

"I do, yes," Cas insists, biting his lips harshly to keep from reacting to the quiet whimper Dean makes at his words. "I _do_ know. I want it. I want you. I want this. I know exactly what I'm asking." He lets go slowly until he's on his own feet again but only so he can grab the Alpha's shirt in both hands and shove Dean back against the opposite wall, easily moving the Alpha only due to his state of surprise. He moves in front of Dean before the Alpha can recover.

He angles his neck just so, knowing the submissive gesture won't be—_can't be—_ignored. "Take me," he whispers and closes his eyes, waiting for whatever reaction is coming. He silently prays, hoping that Dean won't be able to resist and he can finally get claimed as his Mate. _His Mate_. The very idea sends a tingle down his spine and heat to pool in his belly and prickle between his thighs. His hips rolls instinctively with another burst of slick.

"Please, Dean," Cas whispers when there is no further movement. He presses closer and fists his hands in Dean's shirt, pulling himself closer in the process.

He can feel Dean trembling, his entire body thrumming with need—muscles clenching and tense with the effort of holding himself back. He almost feels bad. _Almost_. But this needs to happen and he isn't going to be the one to back down, not when they're so close. He really would think Dean is rejecting him if he didn't see the way the Alpha is straining not to move forward. A warm burst of affection joins the heat of lust and he smiles up at Dean.

"It's OK. I want this. Do you?"

Dean growls low in his throat and his control snaps. "Yes," he says through clenched teeth. Cas _does_ know what he's asking for; and he had been asking for weeks, now that Dean thinks about it. He hadn't wanted to bind the Omega to him in this way—out of some sort of misguided attempt at keeping Cas safe. But now... he's powerless to control himself against the forceful, willing, Omega. This Alpha wants his Mate. There's no way he can stop now.

His mind goes pleasantly blank when he sees that pale, slender neck exposed to him—_for_ him—again, Cas leaning in and angling his head to the side in clear invitation. He doesn't bite down yet but he does latch his teeth on the delicate, pale column of flesh and sucks lightly. He grunts softly at the strangled moan Cas makes and he spins them around and presses Cas harshly against the wall as he works on tearing off the few garments he wore.

If he was thinking clearly, and Cas hadn't already made it very clear, he probably would have paused make sure Cas is sure but he doesn't.

His Mate _smells_ sure, so he doesn't have to waste time asking. He just wants to rip and tug at fabric until he's as naked as Cas. He pauses, still in his pants, and takes a moment to look down at his Omega, his eyes alight and glowing brightly with lustful glee and possessive pleasure at the flushed, trembling body under him.

None of his fantasies even comes close to the image before him. He wants to rut and howl but reins himself in with an effort; there will be time for that later.

"Last chance, little mate," Dean whispers lowly, slowly running a finger down a pale, flushed chest and abdomen. He splays his hands over the twitching muscles of Cas' stomach before sliding around to grip slim hips in a tight hold. He just manages to resist grabbing the very erect, flushed cock jutting out from dark curls. He might be able to stop if Cas pulls away... Or he might give chase and claim, anyway. He's glad he found that reserve of lucidity to ask when Cas moans, rolls his hips and cups him through his jeans, squeezing with the perfect pressure.

He's taking that as yes.

"Claim me, Dean," Castiel demands in a low whisper.

He drags his hands across the Alpha's chest, fondling and enjoying the firm-softness of muscle and warm skin. He slides up to caress peaked nipples. He shivers with pleasure when Dean growls low in his throat again and his hands are gently batted away. He's suddenly spun around, his chest and flushed cock rubbing against the rough surface of the wall. It's almost painful on his sensitive, heated flesh. Even so, he finds himself wriggling against it in an effort to find some friction.

He swallows heavily, fully aware there is no way this is going to end until they're both done. He can't stop the shudder that works through him at such a thought; he honestly can't wait. A fresh gush of slick has the Alpha against his back making a growling moan of helpless lust. He peeks over his shoulder, moaning softly as he takes in the sight of Dean; wild eyed and looking ready to eat him.

Castiel arches his back, rubbing the slick, heated cleft of his ass against the very pronounced bulge in Dean's pants. "Dean," he whines, hoping his actions will speed things up. "Claim me," he begs and wiggles. "C'mon. Stop teasing!" He's going to fucking _explode_ and Dean has barely touched him yet. Damn teasing Alpha!

Dean's only response is another growl which tapers off into a guttural moan when Cas' ass slides along his growing knot again. He can't be bothered to fully strip, not now. He tears at his jeans, opening them just enough so his cock can spring out. He sighs with relief before kicking a foot between Cas' feet, forcing the pale, slender legs to part. He smirks when Cas whines pitifully and arches into him again, his hips rolling to the perfect angle.

"Such a needy little Omega," he murmurs, fisting Cas' dark, messy hair in one hand so he can pull his face back enough to forcefully kiss him. This isn't going to be a sweet, romantic kiss or even a lusty one. This is possessive and full of need. He plunders Cas' mouth without mercy, that whispering Alpha instinct now howling with pleasure when Cas only moans into his mouth and quickly submits, allowing Dean to do whatever he wants.

Cas' complete submission only makes him harder, his knot fully out and ready, and there's no going back now. He presses himself along Cas' back, wrapping his arms around his trembling body; one across his chest and a hand wrapping possessively around Cas' erection. "Mine," Dean growls, nipping at the shell of Cas' pinked ear. He grunts, pleased and placated, when Cas immediately nods enthusiastically and moans 'yours' in response.

Dean roughly shoves three fingers in Cas' mouth, grunting with pleasure when they're eagerly accepted. It's not needed at this point, Cas is leaking slick freely and the scent is driving him insane. He watches Cas lick and suck wantonly, his blown out blue eyes fluttering closed with a greedy hum of pleasure as he slicks the digits with an agile tongue Dean promises himself to explore later. He pulls his fingers free with a slithery wet sound that has them both moaning. He just wants his little Omega, to fuck him and claim him.

He slides his spit-wet fingers down Cas' back, tracing his spine and slips two fingers between his pert cheeks, spreading them and giving him a lovely view of Cas. He watches a clear trickle of slick escape and he grunts, pushing into that tight ass, wiggling and spreading them for a moment.

It's a slick, hot slide and there's no resistance at all.

Castiel jumps at the sudden feeling of Dean inside him but arches his hips back and spreads his legs further apart, giving Dean plenty of room and access to his body. It's not nearly enough but it's a start. He yelps with surprise when Dean picks him up, and quickly lowers him, face down on the bath rug in the middle of the floor. He quickly scrambles up onto his hands and knees, presenting himself and looking over his shoulder when Dean moans appreciatively.

"All yours," he breathes and wriggles his ass at a panting, wild-eyed Dean in invitation. He knows he looks the picture of a wanton, needy Omega and right now he's completely OK with that as he watches Dean fist himself and shuffle closer. He has to close his eyes and look away, insanely turned on and fearing he'd spontaneously orgasm when Dean's fingers slide into his body again and his own slick is smeared onto the Alpha's cock.

Castiel's fingers twitch and dig into the carpet with the urge to be in Dean's mussed hair but he isn't moving from where Dean had placed him; this is how his Alpha wants him and this is how he'll stay until told otherwise. His whole body twitches and he moans loudly when Dean drapes himself across his back, the Alpha's weight making his arms buckle and pin his chest to the rug. He feels Dean's weight slide downwards and then off.

He's about to complain but only a surprised squeak/low groan of pleasure comes out when large, strong hands knead his ass cheeks, fingers fluttering along his slick cleft. A rough tongue follows the fingers path and he presses back, silently asking for more. He presses his cheek to the carpet and moans, his eyes fluttering closed when he's opened and relaxed even more. He whimpers when the fingers (or tongue) aren't there long, a sure sign of Dean's urgency and need.

Castiel wants to look back at Dean, but he doesn't. He's pinned and the waiting is actually pretty thrilling.

"Hang on, my Omega," are Dean's only other coherent words to Castiel before he quickly thrusts inside his pinned but willing body.

Dean grunts softly as he leans back up and circles his hips when Cas moans and tries to move. He slides a hand up a sweaty back, watching as his fingers bump over the knobs of spine, and grips the back of Cas' neck gently but firmly. He grunts with pleasure when Cas relaxes even more in his hold and his hips buck and roll against him with encouragement.

He's pretty pleased to find out Cas isn't one to just lay there and take a fucking; apparently not even when it's a Mating like this. He shudders with a loud groan and lets his Alpha take over. He leans down again, possessively covering the slightly smaller body as his hips starts a fast, hard pace. He runs his hands all over every inch of Cas' prone form he can touch, especially his perky little ass cheeks. He wants to bite one but he isn't flexible enough (dammit) and he's not about to pull out so he can.

Maybe later...

Dean's nails leave pinking trails all over the pale skin, marking Cas and making the Omega shiver and emit high keening sounds of pleasure between whined moans. He pulls Cas back up to his knees, a hand on the back of his neck keeping the narrow shoulders pinned and hips high—the perfect angle and position. He leans back enough to admire the sight of Cas with his ass in their air, willingly submissive and moaning wantonly for him.

He looks down and makes a guttural sound of satisfaction and pleasure as he watches himself slide in and out of Cas, grabbing a cheek in each hand and rubbing his thumbs against the Omega's stretched out opening. His head flops back, closes his eyes and just listens. Cas moaning, his own panting, pre-come and slick making obscene, erotic wet sounds with each push and pull into that tight heat. It's almost too fucking much.

Dean slides his hand down Cas' back, settling a hand on the small of the Omega's sweaty back and presses down enough to have him arch just right. He grins as Cas voices a long shuddering moan, long fingers scrabbling uselessly against the rug, as he roughly slams against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him.

Castiel cries out, his legs trembling and almost giving out. Dean growls lowly and a strong hand wraps firmly around his hips and another bands tightly around his chest and holds him still. He pants and moans, letting Dean do whatever he wants with his body. Fuck, it's incredible! He's sure to be sore and probably have a fair share of bruises but he can't find it in himself to care at the moment. Not now, not when he's finally getting what he wanted: Dean. Completely and forever.

He knows he's babbling nonsense as he's roughly shoved against the rug but he can't stop, not even if Dean were to order him to be quiet. He doesn't exactly want to let everyone in the house know what's going on in here, but any idea of secrecy flew out the window with the first loud moan.

Dean's lips and teeth play over Cas' shoulders and neck, licking and nipping almost gently at first. When he can feel Cas twitching and writhing under him and high-pitched gasps leaving his parted lips, he doesn't hold back any longer. Cas is close and he isn't far behind him. He pauses long enough to turn Cas onto his back, sliding right back into that slick heat the moment the Omega lands, wide-eyed and gasping.

"Mine," he growls loudly, lowering himself until their chests are pressed together. He feels Cas shudder and gasp in pleasure as the rumble goes through him. He sinks his teeth deeply into the soft flesh of Cas' neck where it meets his shoulder. He moans loudly as the coppery tang of Cas' blood reaches his tongue. He fights the urge to grit his teeth when he feels Cas' teeth sink into his own neck, but the pleasure of a Bond Mark quickly overrides any pain he might've felt.

Dean is aware of Cas' muffled scream but it's hard to tell if it's in pain or pleasure since his body shakes and squeezes Dean's cock rhythmically with his orgasm at the same time. He doesn't stop his movements but picks up speed and ferocity as he works towards his own orgasm. One last thrust has his knot slam snugly into his Omega, his howls muffled as he fills Cas in jerky spurts. He groans when he feels a few dribbles leak past their connected bodies and land somewhere under Cas.

He stills, his teeth and cock still buried in Cas' body, as he calms slightly. Cas wriggles a little and he twitches, another short burst of come forced out.

Dean slowly loosens his jaws, wincing slightly as he catches sight of the bloody indents in Cas' pale skin. He finds the energy to grab Cas tightly and roll onto his back, switching their positions. Cas bonelessly drapes his sated body on his chest. It'll be awhile before they can separate and it's the best he can do since he didn't have the presence of mind to flip Cas back over since it would be most comfortable chest to back. Oh well. This way he can look at his flushed, panting Omega.

He rests his cheek in the crook of Cas' neck and runs his hands along the still heavily panting sides and chest. "'M sorry," he whispers, a hand ghosting over the bite mark with another wince when Cas whimpers softly. A happy sigh and a wriggle tells him it wasn't one of pain, but still... He places a few gentle kisses over the area in apology, anyway.

"Don't be," Cas murmurs, chuckling softly even as he struggles to remain still at the kisses and feather-light touches along his ribs and sides. He's ticklish but he doesn't want to move around too much. "I wanted it. I loved it."

Dean groans and reaches out enough to grab a towel, spreading it out on Cas' naked back. It's not much, but it'll do for now. He holds Cas to him, trying to gently cradle him but without it seeming like he is. He feels... twitchy. Sated and rubbed raw at the same time, no doubt from the new mate Bond... He runs a lightly shaking hand through Cas' dark, sweaty hair and sighs. Now that he's thinking a little more clearly, he feels a little queasy and guilty.

"Uh huh, but you do realize what this means?" he murmurs. He feels Cas shift up, the Omega crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on him. He's trying his best to avoid Cas' gaze, staring at his bitten neck instead. As much as he wants to hold onto that guilty feeling, seeing a Bond Mark on Castiel only has his body warming with possessive pleasure and his chest constricting with too many emotions to track at once. His fingers are brushing over it without his consent and he can't help smiling a little.

"Mhm." Castiel drops his chin into a hand, looking down at Dean's and making eye contact. He sees the Alpha squirm a little at the intensity, but he doesn't let up. "I do. You're mine now," he murmurs, smiling before he flops back down on Dean's sweaty, still-heaving chest with a happy sigh. He licks a hot trail down between firm pecs and circles a pale pink nipple with his tongue, capturing little droplets of sweat. He hums with pleasure at the salty tang. He watches the rosy nub pebble with interest.

He tries not to giggle when Dean slaps at his hand; the Alpha is probably still over-sensitive from his earlier orgasm and no where near ready for another attempt. He peppers soft kisses along Dean's collarbones and up his neck.

"Are you still going to hide from me?" Castiel asks quietly between soft, open mouth kisses up and down Dean's damp neck. He nuzzles into the Alpha, remembering how it felt to know Dean had been avoiding him, even if it hadn't been for long. He doesn't think he can stand it if Dean tries doing that again. Not now. He peeks up at Dean through his lashes when it takes a few moments for an answer.

Dean slowly shakes his head. "No, I'd never hurt my Mate," he says quietly, running a gentle hand down Cas' back and cupping his ass. He tries not to grimace at the heated flesh; he had been a bit too rough. (Not that Cas is complaining any if that little whiny moan means anything.) He growls softly with pleasure, unable to help himself. He's finally claimed his Mate. It's somehow better that Cas had initiated it. He gently shifts and twists the Omega to a more comfortable position on his chest and gently laps at the oozing Mark. It makes heat pool low in his belly and a contented sound to rumble through his chest.

"Good," Castiel says with a sigh.

He lays contentedly, enjoying the gentle licks and firm warmth surrounding him. After a few moments, Dean's tongue stops its wonderful movements and he pulls back a little, stretching with a sigh when he hears the satisfying crackles and pops. "I fully intend to drag you to the nearest bed and keep you in it for the duration then. Mate sex is _fantastic_," he gushes, gently fingering the still tender bite on his neck. He feels a zing of pleasure shoot down his body from the spot and he closes his eyes in bliss.


End file.
